Ritual Of Distress

Distress happens when I shut out everyone else. 
When I work so hard to hit a wall.
When I break my life apart into scraps and pieces. 
When I rush into nothing and take everything that isn’t mine.
Distress happens when I spit in the face of all that I love 
And run out every door.
It’s a ritual, a pattern
A comfortable return to what I know.
It’s something I can control
And I keep returning to it.

Ritual Of Distress ©Hanna Bruer